


Starlight

by Pappillon



Series: Starlight [1]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: But it's a live birth, Don't be afraid, Gem egg hell?, Gen, Nothing squicky happens but I'm not going to spoil anything with archive warnings., This story is also kind of sad so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-04-12 03:49:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19123975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pappillon/pseuds/Pappillon
Summary: Yellow Diamond gives birth.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! For the purpose of this story please pretend that gems can have babies, lol. I'd also love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a comment. I always answer back.

They had made up the room with a bed in the center and a crib at its feet. Against one of the green floral-printed walls stood a rocking chair, an empty toy box, and a sparse bookshelf. The books residing there detailed children on Homeworld, with titles such as  _ The Care and Raising of Young Gems,  _ and _ Gem Pregnancy _ . White had gifted them the latter. She had sent it to Yellow’s control room with the note, “I doubt you’ll have much trouble.” 

If there was any more literature on the subject, it would have occupied that shelf, but there wasn’t. They would have been marked like the others, with notes that Blue had shoved inside. In various colors, they exploded from the pages, adding to the width.    

“Do you think she’ll like it here?” Blue’s hand, perpetually against Yellow’s stomach, smoothed over it once. With one arm around Yellow’s shoulders, Blue supported her as if she could hold both of them at once.

“If she doesn’t, she won’t be able to complain.”

“Do you have to ruin everything? Can’t you say she will?”

“I’m sure she will.”

“Honestly.” They relaxed as the baby kicked. “Yellow, can you feel that? Oh, I hope it means she’s happy. I want to meet her so badly.”

“Why don’t you talk to her? Tell her to relax.”

Blue left the embrace to lay her head gently upon Yellow’s stomach. Looking into Yellow’s eyes, she spoke. “Hello, Green. Yellow wants you to calm down, but I love it when you’re lively. I think you should kick her even harder so I can be closer to your little feet.” She kissed near the top of Yellow’s stomach, as if reaching her daughter’s forehead. “I’m madly jealous.”

Yellow moved some of Blue’s hair behind her ear as sunlight bled through the curtains. The room grew degrees warmer.  

“I wish I could give her to you somehow. I know you would have enjoyed this more.”

“It’s okay. We’re getting close. You’ve grown so round.” Blue looped an arm beneath Yellow, embracing the entirety of her stomach. The baby remained relatively still, and Blue smoothed over her again. “Can you tell me anything about her? What does she seem to like? Is she showing her personality yet?”

“She seems to like this. She’s always active when you come to visit, as if she just knows.”

“She’s going to be so beautiful,” Blue said, tears dripping onto the pinnacle of Yellow’s hill. “I can feel it, I love her so much.”

Yellow wiped them away. “She loves you too.”

Blue returned to kiss her on the lips, and Green kicked to the beat of her mother’s heart.


	2. Chapter 2

She was born in that room. Once the time came and the contractions were no longer friendly blows, Yellow set herself on the bed with Blue offering her a hand. She had left in the middle of a meeting to let Yellow wring the color from her fingers between determined howls. Blue clutched as strongly back, encouraging her to push.

“She’s crowning!” Blue let go. “Just a little more!”

Yellow pushed and collapsed, giving up the last of her breath as sharp cries filled the room. They reverberated loudly enough to drown out any sigh of relief. 

Blue, holding the child, wiped away the blood and afterbirth from her face. She cleaned her as if unwrapping a present, desperate to uncover the gift underneath, no matter how the baby cried. But upon uncovering her skin, Blue stopped. She stared at the creature howling from the sting of fresh life, before turning to Yellow.    

“What’s wrong?” Yellow sat up and winced.  

Then she looked at the child, weeping fiercely enough to escape Blue’s arms. Her flailing limbs were white, complemented by the pale yellow diamond glinting from her forehead. It flashed like an alarm as she screamed.   

“How long did you know?”

The crying caused Yellow’s ears to ring as she studied her daughter. With every passing moment, trying to find an explanation, Blue’s breathing grew harder. Tears marred her eyes, and she stopped waiting for an answer, leaving the baby to Yellow. She exited with blood smeared on her gown.

As the door slammed, her crying had stopped and her eyes had opened. They found each other, approximately, through two different kinds of hazy golden eyes.

Yellow attempted to call Blue. The baby, hours old in her arms, wailing. No answer. The baby in her crib for bed time, wailing; no answer. Yellow paging through one of the few parenting books in existence—the one that Blue had read several times over—the baby wailing; no answer. The baby stopping her wailing to feed; Yellow’s face in the mirror, eyes caved in. No answer. 

She texted. With the baby wriggling in her arms, she wrote, “How do I comfort her?” and “Is she supposed to cry so often?” But received, of course, no answer.

Yellow called White. Her baby asleep in her crib, she dialed steps outside the nursery. As the book had suggested, Yellow propped her up with pillows to keep her from rolling, facing the ceiling and covered by a mint-colored blanket. She tried several times, the line ringing on and on, as if she didn’t have legions of servants to take the call. The fourth time, the ringing stopped early.

Yellow sent a message reading, “I need your help.” She lingered for minutes as the baby stirred, making noises that threatened a cry, but never exploded into one.

Yellow said to Pearl, standing in the corner of the room, “Alert me if she starts crying,” words spoken quietly.

“Yes, My Diamond,” Pearl whispered back.

Aching, Yellow sat in her control room chair, which responded to her presence by opening its screen. It did so quickly and quietly, as if to issue an apology for the messages that had flooded her inbox, status updates she had requested from her colonies, work reports, gems in need of assistance. She scrolled through them, message after message like the bricks of a tower. Nothing from White. Nothing from Blue.    

Every corner of her ached, but she responded, filed the reports, sent more texts, wrote to the leader of a fleet, checked if Blue had written back, took a call, checked to see if Blue had written back, took another call. The baby was crying.

Her noise nearly drowned out Pearl. “My Diamond, I’m not sure what’s wrong. I attempted to sing to her, but—”

“I’m coming.”

Yellow returned to the baby clenching her fists, face squeezed a sharp and angry gold. Her eyes, reduced to slits, had filled with tears, and she screamed from the toothless cavern of her dark, little mouth.  

Yellow sighed. “You were sleeping so peacefully. Surely there’s no reason to be this upset.”

To her mother’s logic, the baby wailed louder, furiously kicking her legs. Yellow lifted her. They sat together in the nursery room rocking chair as she aired her complaints. They went from shaking the walls, to medium lamentations, to sleepy vowels, until Yellow placed her in the crib and went back to work.

But it wasn’t long before Pearl called again, over the sharp notes of the baby’s screaming. Aggressive and desperate, they pulled her in every time. She wrote to Blue again, “She really won’t stop crying,” to no response. “Is this normal?”

By the fifth time, Yellow brought the baby with her. Two days old, she lay in her mother’s lap, cradled in the seat of power as Yellow held her with one arm and typed with the other.

“Why does she need so much?”

Yellow’s gems came to see her. Filing in, one after the other, they made their reports, staring full-faced at the baby in Yellow’s arms. They caught especially the diamond in her forehead, her dusty blond hair, her porcelain skin.

The baby would holler, a cry that might call for a shattering. They stumbled their way through their “My Diamond,” or sometimes even “My Diamonds.”

“She cries at least twenty times a day. That can’t be normal.”

Yellow fed her outside the control room, as if her visitors didn’t stare enough, sitting on a sofa.

The sofa itself stood out against the utilitarian wasteland behind the control room, being the only piece of furniture between the throne and the nursery. Blue had suggested it. They had finished decorating the nursery and she said, “Oh, Yellow. This room is so barren.” So she ordered it, blue and gold like both of them, embroidered in endless silver thread.   

Yellow followed the pattern until glancing at her communicator, catching her baby’s face. Around her cheeks were hairline scratches, not deep enough to bleed, but visible, as if caused by the tip of a pin.

Just as Yellow touched one of them with the tip of her index finger, her communicator rang blue. Her heart pulsed in her throat, and she opened Blue’s singular, long response. “It’s natural for babies at this age to need plenty of attention,” a sentence quoted from _Young Gems_. “Unlike regular gems, these beings come into the world knowing very little and grow over time, and as such need constant care, ranging from feeding, bathing, and playing. Although more research needs to be done on the topic of young gems, they seem to respond well to being spoken to, and are happiest when all their needs are met.” There was a lull. The light from the first message dimmed only to ping back to life again when another arrived. “Talk to her. Play with her. Treat her like your daughter.”

Yellow’s fingers hovered above the keyboard before she replied, “Thank you.”  

In  _ Young Gems _ , there was a section about play. With pictures showing various ‘games,’ it listed activities one could do with her child, most of which involved sitting or walking. But there was one that had the mother hiding her face and revealing herself. An easy ‘game’ with the explanation, “At this age, young gems don’t possess object permanence. Unless something is in front of them, they won’t be able to remember it’s there.”

Yellow set the book down and stood at the foot of the crib. She gulped, her three-day-old baby’s unfocused eyes on her, waiting. She stuck her tongue out, sighed a little.

“Look at me.” Yellow told her.

She made a noise, perhaps to signify that she was paying attention, and Yellow hid behind her hands. She held her position for several seconds until revealing herself.

Her baby hiccupped.

“I’m going to try again,” Yellow told her. “I want you to look this time.”

Yellow hid and waited, but the baby made no audible reaction. Slowly, Yellow lowered her hands to peak over her fingertips, finding that the baby wasn’t watching at all.

“You’re not looking. Here, we’ll try again.”

Yellow waited until the baby (kind of) made eye contact to cover her face. She waited a few seconds, lowered her hands, but the baby was no longer looking. Instead she had found her foot and held onto it, fascinated by all five of her clawed toes.

“You’re still not looking.” Yellow stroked her forehead, past the gem embedded into it. She was so soft.

The baby secured her mother’s thumb. She squeezed especially hard.  

“I’m sorry,” Yellow said, leaning over, kissing her forehead. She settled their heads together and the baby closed her eyes. “I’ll do better.”   


	3. Chapter 3

Yellow didn’t get through to White until the fourth day to tell her that she had named their daughter Starlight. ‘Light Yellow Diamond’ wasn’t appropriate and she was far too special for such an ugly name. All the while, White looked from the other side of her communicator, appearing still on screen. Her hologram glanced downward into Yellow’s arms, where Starlight had fallen asleep. 

“We were only together once,” White finally said. “Are you certain she’s not Blue’s?”

“Her gem is in her forehead, White.”

“That’s merely its placement. Perhaps her color will come in time. Being born must have put some stress on her.” 

“I’m not going to argue about this.” Yellow nearly hung up but caught White’s finely furrowed brows and the small gap between her lips. 

“No arguments. I’d like to see her soon. I brought a gift for you, and Blue, and…”

“Starlight.” Yellow said, “And you need to come  _ now _ . I don’t have much time before I have to return to work.” With that, she hung up. White’s light faded from the nursery, taking the wall’s flowers back to deep green. 

Stroking through her hair, Yellow rocked with Starlight, who yawned but didn’t wake. Her lips smacked as she settled, and offering her a finger, they held hands, remaining that way until Pearl announced White’s presence.

Even when the doors opened, White didn’t step inside. Her enormous figure cast a shadow onto the rocking chair, over Yellow and their sleeping daughter, who began to squirm.

White didn’t present her gift. Instead, she lowered it to the floor without placing it, allowing the large wicker basket to hang while exchanging a glance between Yellow and their alleged baby’s head.

“You can come closer,” Yellow said. “She’s not going to attack you.”

White put down the basket and advanced toward Starlight, who Yellow set face up in her lap. Supported by her mother’s arms, Starlight glanced around. She never chose one point to settle on, but as her tiny claws moved toward her face, Yellow caught them, preventing the next round of scratches. 

White leaned over both of them.

“Oh, Yellow,” she said. “Who could have foreseen such a thing? Did you have any idea?”

“No.” Starlight had taken Yellow by her pinky and thumb, studying her heartlines. “I thought she was Blue’s. I didn’t consider for a moment…”

“Have you spoken to her since?”

“No.” 

Finally, White reached over with the long, dangerous claws of one hand and touched the strands of Starlight’s hair. Her locks went in any direction, as if teased by the static of a balloon. It contrasted her round, white cheeks, which now that she had unwrinkled, drew Yellow’s fingers. Even White momentarily trailed the back of her index finger along the right side of her face.

“I’m not sure what to do, Yellow. I’m unprepared for this outcome.”

“Are you saying you’re not going to help?”

“I simply don’t know how involved I need to be. Certainly, she can’t need that much. She’s a Diamond.”

Yellow shook her head and laughed. “ _ A Diamond _ .”

White hesitated.

“Get out. I can’t stand to look at you.” 

White remained. She set her hand beneath her chin, coiled delicately, but she didn’t move, even as Yellow clenched her fists.

“You heard me!  _ Go! _ ”

Before any electricity discharged, White turned to leave. She took most of the light as the doors closed behind her, and Yellow, rather than going to work, cried with Starlight. Her Pearl frequently dipped her head in but never interrupted, keeping talk of rescheduling appointments to herself.

Starlight sobbed the next morning. She shouted; she scratched. Yellow stopped and held her. They spent a long time in the rocking chair, as Yellow simultaneously comforted her and figured out one of the gifts White had left—a long, rectangular cloth.

She had written back, having texted a simple, “I’m sorry,” when Yellow had asked about it. “It’s meant to be tied around you, to free your hands as the baby sleeps. I had it made to your size.”   

Yellow had tried several times, but ended up with a loose X over her chest. Slotting a crying Starlight into it, she knotted up the extra fabric and headed to her control room.

Her gems stared. The news had spread. Everyone knew. They must have anticipated seeing her, folded into Yellow’s chest, but it didn’t stop them from gaping. They halted at Starlight’s head of blond hair, trying to catch the gem affixed to her forehead. No one congratulated her.  

Sitting together on the sofa, Yellow would talk, stroking through Starlight’s hair. Carefully, she would drift past each strand, handled as if they were flower petals. “It’s such a busy day,” she said as Starlight drank, sometimes mumbling or kicking.

Yellow would also massage her tiny feet. Smoothing her thumb over the arch of her foot, Yellow could sometimes almost get Starlight to smile. If anything, she would make a high-pitched noise, joyfully screaming as Yellow rubbed her toes, for luck.

Pearl would interrupt. “Your next appointment is here, My Diamond,” and Yellow would creak back to her throne, Starlight squirming at her chest.

White had also left a small plastic tub and glass bottle of pearly soap. “To bathe her,” she had written in fine lines that looked printed. She had left another such note on the bottle that read, “gentle formula.”

Rereading the instructions from  _ Young Gems _ , Yellow set Starlight into the bath, containing more bubbles than water. She flailed upon entering, shrieking at the warmth and the incoming sponge.

Looking up at Yellow with her unfocused eyes, she might shout or chatter, but the indignant cries for some incompetent gem’s shattering never passed the lips of the tub. If Starlight couldn’t sleep, Yellow would fill the tub for her. Upon meeting the warm water, her lamenting would reduce to complaining, which would disappear once Yellow lathered her in soap. Sometimes she would sleep in the tub, pampered to the in-between of her fingers and toes.

A little empress, Yellow would kiss her hand. “You’re finished, My Diamond.” But she wasn’t usually awake to respond.

Yellow would tell Blue and White these things, despite infrequently receiving answers back. “She smiled for the first time today,” or, “I’ve commissioned little gloves for her, to keep her from scratching her face.” Yellow might include a picture taken by Pearl. Leaning into Yellow’s arm and holding her hand, Starlight squinted into the camera. Avant Garde with her wild hair and wearing a tiny black dress, she looked especially judgmental, despite going to sleep. “Looking regal,” Yellow wrote to no one.

Hours later, Blue answered back. “I need an update on colony Theta 7,” and later still to Yellow exclusively, “I don’t want to see your pictures any longer.”

At that point, Starlight lay in her crib, propped up and surrounded by her court of pillows. Snoring quietly to herself, she had curled up her gloved hands, covered by her seafoam blanket.

Before Yellow could answer, another flash of blue light entered the room. “I’m still furious.”

Yellow wrote back, “You have every right to be, but I want you to meet her.”

Starlight punctuated the time with her breathing. They had found a nightlight for her, a round bulb plugged into the wall. In its dim glow, Yellow stroked Starlight’s face. 

More recently, her cheeks had developed a warmth as if someone had come by and sprinkled gold dust over them. Yellow would touch her, expecting her hand to be covered in glitter, but it never was.

Minutes later Blue’s light flashed again.

“Did you know?”

“I believed she was yours as much as you did,” and then, “You can hate me as intensely as you need to, but don’t take it out on her.”

Almost immediately, a flash. “I’m trying not to,” and another. “We’ll talk later.”

For the rest of the evening, the only light was that of the bulb, but even so, Yellow could see that Starlight had opened her eyes, having released a gasp. She had snored too loudly and startled herself awake, but instead of crying, she reached her arms upward and cooed. 

“Did you wake yourself up or was it my fault?” Yellow offered her hand and Starlight stole its pinky. “You saw me doing nothing and now you have to boss me around.” She touched her daughter’s hair. “I wonder what sort of things you would say, if you could speak.”     

Yellow hummed to her, and between the quiet song and the motion of her hand, Starlight slept. Kissing her forehead, Yellow left for the control room, unread messages having piled and procreated.    


	4. Chapter 4

Finally, a free day came. Starlight awoke early. Disrupting her pillows, she kicked and cried as Yellow lay beneath the covers of the bed, unmoving. In finding a patch of pillow that smelled of Blue, she rose and took Starlight from the crib.

Yellow no longer spoke to her while they were feeding since Starlight had a tendency to talk back. She would try to show her mother all the sounds she had learned to make, long ‘ah’s, and now the occasional mmm’s that, when excited, she put together. Kicking, she might produce a rapid-fire  _ muhmuhmuhmuhmuh _ , potentially followed by more screaming. Yellow would try not to laugh at her daughter’s attempted language, and she would smile back, euphoric, toothless, and probably drooling.

Blue had asked that Yellow not bring her.

“Sometimes you look a little wild,” she told Starlight, setting her on the dresser. In interest for something or other, she had clenched her hands and released a long, voiceless breath, a hiss. “Have your eyes focused a little more? Is that why?”

Yellow was peeling Starlight out of her pajamas, while her four-pointed pupils followed her mother’s face. They were a slightly different color, now that they had started to develop; white gold to match her blond eyebrows.

“If I showed you a mirror, could you get over how pretty you are? Would you know it was you?”

Starlight made a sound from deep in her stomach, a low  _ ooo _ that prompted Yellow to rub her belly as she opened the drawer of tiny dresses, revealing a spectrum of green with few outliers. To the left of this wardrobe was a collection of bows. Choosing one, Yellow bunched together a few strands of her hair and secured them with the clip.

“Of the few babies born on Homeworld, none of them were born with so much hair. Blue said you probably couldn’t wear a clip for a while, but she wanted these for you. I have to agree, you look cute.”

Starlight stared blankly as Yellow dressed her, reaching upward to find the bow, but only securing locks of hair. Yellow smiled at her and she smiled back, curling up her pointed toes and shrieking. 

“You have to show them how fabulous you are. My Diamond doesn’t take any lip, does she?”

Starlight resembled a gift going to visit White, wrapped in a blanket with the bow in her hair. She had relaxed so thoroughly in Yellow’s arms that she had almost gone to sleep, save for her eyes opening in response to the mechanical separation of a door, or curiosity to a change in scenery.

They made it to the warp pad and Yellow warned her, “There’s going to be a flash, but don’t be afraid. We’ll arrive to White’s palace in a moment.” Kissing her forehead, Yellow stepped into the light bringing them to a dark, silent room, which Starlight cut with her crying.

In trying to quiet her screams, Yellow sat in a nearby chair, where White would await her guests. Only when the impassioned shouts faded to whimpers did she find White filling the doorway. 

“You look exhausted.” She had leaned against the frame, running her fingers over the hem of her floor-length cloak. “She’s beginning to look different. I can see that she truly is mine.”

“She’s growing,” Yellow said.

“I’m sorry.” White drew nearer, exposing some of her silver dress by the movement of her cloak. It was in perfect condition, untouched by wrinkles or bodily fluids. “I spoke with Blue a few days ago. She told me that she wasn’t angry because we had been together, it’s that the baby isn’t hers. I think there’s a good chance you’ll be able to work this out.”

“I hope so.”

They were walking into the main room, where White’s throne sat empty, set in pure silver. The space had drowned in fineries—polished picture frames featuring her court, as well as a chandelier whose rough crystals reflected a spectrum of colors. Bright lights in orderly rows along the walls washed out the Pearls, who drew Starlight’s attention as they walked by, caught in their fluffy, grey hair.   

Starlight began to breathe more heavily as White touched her sunny cheek. “I apologize for being absent,” she said. “The entire time, her existence has been an enigma to me, but I’m trying to understand. The pictures you sent made me feel such odd emotions, knowing that she’s partially mine. If it doesn’t make Blue angry, I’d like to be present in her life.”

“I would appreciate that.”

Starlight’s eyes had grown wide, staring at White.

“Her lashes are golden. They were hard to see, the last time.”

“Do you want to hold her?”

White hesitated. “Let me sit down first.”

So Yellow arranged Starlight into White’s lap, telling her that she needed to support her head. Watch out if she starts squirming. “She’s talkative, so speak to her, and she enjoys humming. She’s happier, laying in my left arm than my right, and it helps her to relax if you massage her feet. She usually sleeps during this time of day, so if she passes out and you get tired of holding her, you can put her amongst a pile of pillows, but she needs to be supported on all sides so she doesn’t roll. If she puts her hands up, she wants you to hold them, and if she shouts at you, she’s probably happy. She’ll weep if she’s upset. Don’t be alarmed if she starts babbling. If you have any questions, call me.”

Not pausing for White’s reaction, Yellow kneeled to touch Starlight’s hand, kissing her cheek. “Be good,” she said, and hesitated before kissing her again. Starlight made a noise with an upward inflection before Yellow left her.

Even then, she stopped at the door frame and looked at her tiny daughter in White’s enormous arms. Curious, Starlight had taken a hold of White’s thumb, and Yellow finally turned to the warp, arriving outside of Blue’s chambers.

For any gem that wasn’t allowed in her room, Blue Diamond had set up a waiting area before the tightly clasped doors. A large rug in the middle with two enormous chairs on either side, Yellow sat in neither of them. She waited, finger on the bell.

It was meant for a Pearl to press, but Yellow found a way, having leaned over and pressed it in far enough for the button to stick and echo too long. The sound bounced emptily against Blue’s long hallway with its long tapestries and polished tile floor.

She could nearly smell her perfume, as Blue addressed her over the intercom.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice, entering like a sudden rain cloud, cracked. “I thought I would be able to talk, but now isn’t a good time. You need to leave.”

“Blue, please.” Yellow had only set her fist upon the door, but even the softest knock echoed. “I have no idea when there’s going to be time. I’m here. Can’t we talk now?”

“I’m not ready.”

Yellow heaved out a sigh. “How long is this going to take?” Several seconds passed that Yellow eventually filled. “We’re always on and off, Blue. I’m sorry this happened, but can we please move forward?”

“You’re sorry? How easy it must be for you, to be sorry. It’s not as though you ever had to worry about the baby being yours,  _ when you were lucky enough to carry her _ . You’re only sorry that now there’s evidence you complain to White whenever we’re  _ off _ .”

“ _ We were together once _ .”

“You couldn’t even humor me! There’s stupid, sentimental Blue again, getting emotional about not being able to carry her— _ as if I’m really supposed to believe you and White were together once _ . I’m sure you fuck her every time I get on your nerves. Is that what ‘off’ means to you? You can tell yourself that I’m a burden and complain to White about how needy I am, then she’ll rub your shoulders and finger your frustration away.  _ She’s  _ easier _ , isn’t she? _ ”

“Where are you getting this?  _ It was a mistake that happened one time! _ ”    

“You had a child with her and lied about it!”

“We could at least talk! This is Pink Diamond all over again! You’re just going to wallow until the end of time, and we’ll get nowhere!”  

The storm quieted for a moment, and in its eye appeared Blue’s breathing. She inhaled and exhaled as if her body were shaking, as if she were clenching her fists. Yellow didn’t say a word.

“ _ Get out _ —” The words were sharp as shattered glass. “ _ Go back to White _ —”

Blue began to cry in earnest, but Yellow lingered. Even when Blue took her hand from the button that projected her voice, Yellow could hear her, the sound of her crying echoing within the chambers.

She waited for Blue to tell her to fuck off, maybe open the doors and push her away, kick her in her empty stomach, anything, but she never did. She only produced the sound of steady weeping, and eventually, Yellow left.

Upon warping back to White’s chambers, Yellow walked into a silence. The clocks hardly ticked above it, nor did any machines converse with the Pearls’ steps as they occasionally passed.

Yellow followed one briefly into the throne room, until passing her by. Without any other sound to muffle them, they echoed, even inside where White sat alone, crying.

She had placed her hand over her face. Beneath her long, starlit cloak, she inflated with a hard gasp and shook, disrupting the other hand upon her lap, a pastel green cloth bunched inside it.

Yellow approached until the sound of White’s crying grew louder. A bit closer, she could see the empty fingers of a little black glove tangled in White’s grasp.

“Where is Starlight?” Yellow asked.

White wept harder. “We were sitting so nicely—”

“ _ What happened? _ ”  

The questions boomed around the throne room, bounding between picture frames and paintings commemorating emergences and accomplishments. White, unable to speak, carefully opened her hand. From it, the dress unfurled and sat hollow, two gloves and a shower of pale yellow shards.

“I moved my arm for a moment and she got away from me—I was sure her body would only dissipate, but—”

Her pieces resembled nails, small and pointed like Starlight’s claws.    

Realizing her exhaustion, Yellow descended the stairs to the throne and sat on the bottom step. White’s voice echoed and distorted, but nothing she said mattered. Yellow smothered her face in her hands and screamed.          

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, stay tuned for the sequel which will update every Friday! I promise, this isn't the end of the story. (Please don't hate me, lol.)


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